Intrepid Pawns Ch. 14

His team.

Oh.

Oops.

He bit his lip. "Um... not that way."

The other knights, and deputized catgirl, looked down at him with varying expressions. Yathi looked annoyed. Mew looked delighted—especially at, he realized in embarrassment, his pronounced tent in his robes. He sat up quickly to cover that. Ia looked amused, and more than a little turned on. Trys looked worried.

His face was as bright as a coalbed as he began to rise, staggering, to his feet. He was still dizzy, and it was a struggle. "R-Right, well—"

Ia went stiff. She whirled around.

A second later, Yathi's eyes widened. She lurched back, out of Mew's arms. Mew blinked, her ears flicking, as if she sensed something, too.

"Hide!" Ia hissed, sprinting for the nearest alcove.

And everything happened very fast then.

The world was still spinning as Brist made it to his feet, finally hearing what Ia had heard first—footsteps, coming from inside the room, approaching the doors. He saw Yathi racing towards the same alcove as Ia, saw Trys sprinting for cover on the opposite side of the hall. Mew sprang right after Trys, mewing softly in dismay.

Brist took off, barely keeping one foot in front of the other. His head still spun with visions of submission, of obedience, of decadence, but it was rapidly clearing with the headier drug of adrenaline, of panic and fear. He ran after Yathi and Ia, only to lose his footing and fall to the ground.

"Brist!" he heard Ia cry. Too loud. Too loud.

Brist's heart stopped as he heard a click, and realized the doors were about to open.

He performed a clumsy somersault in his robes, rose to his hands and toes, and scampered towards the nearest alcove, not caring if it was the same one Ia had gone in, just desperate for cover.

He tumbled through the hanging curtains and collapsed in a heap on the other side. His eyes squeezed shut, and he willed himself completely still as he curled up into a ball, praying that the curtain would stop billowing by the time the Triae reached it.

He heard the doors creak open, and a babble of voices reached his ears, a stream of fervent, brainless chatter.

The seven Thriae were heading out, it seemed.

And they were coming right down the hall.

Right towards his hiding place.

His cock throbbed. And before he could even think to control himself, he felt a whimper slip from his quivering lips.

And a soft, smooth, warm hand covered his mouth, smothering it.

Brist's eyes shot open, and he turned, heart suddenly pounding like a caged rabbit's, to stare into two pairs of brilliant golden eyes.

He was not alone in this closet—actually, he realized, a cramped, cozy sort of bedroom.

And the two blonde mead sprites who were sitting on the bed beamed up at their new roommate.

"Hi," one whispered breathily, her luscious lips half-parted. Her hand was the one covering his mouth.

Brist blinked rapidly.

The other grinned, her bounteous breasts bouncing within their revealing white slip as she took his right hand in hers.

He gulped, his mind racing with delicious and useless thoughts—like how beautiful they were, how happy they looked, how plump and kissable their beestung lips were, how... how...

They both giggled softly.

Brist's heart filled with dread. Their eyes were fixated on his tented robes. Almost hypnotized by it.

And gods, they smelled... so... good. Even with his senses dampened, still he could barely make out that sweet scent. So sweet, so achingly sweet and yummy and musky and mind-melting. His eyelids fluttered as he felt the second sprite slowly pulling him towards the bed, heard her cooing, "You wanna... sit down?"

"N-No," he whimpered through the hand, head spinning at the sweetness of their scent, the lovely wispiness of their voices, the adoration in their gaze... "I... I shouldn't..."

They shushed him between soft giggles, and he found himself complying as they guided him to sit between them. What could he do? The footsteps outside were getting closer. And closer.

Seven Thriae. Seven gorgeous, dominant, irresistible blonde fey who would take him, would drug him, humiliate him, claim him, make him a good boy...

"That's it," purred the first sprite with a smirk. She cuddled up next to him, her eyes still settled in his lap. And her hand was heading in the same direction. Her hands were so soft, so small and delicate, but so knowing.

"Just be nice and quiet," whispered the second, scooting up to squeeze him, sandwiched, between them, "and we'll be nice and quiet, too, okay?"

Brist's thoughts were racing, but he had no idea what to do. He meekly nodded.

"You've just gotta do..." purred the first in his ear, as her hand started to slip up the hem of his robes...

"... exactly what we say!" they cooed as one. "Okay, honey?"

Brist stared at the curtain, bit his lip... and whimpered under his breath.

And judging by their laughter, they took this as a 'yes'.